


Ice Blue

by forest_roses



Series: stars showing through the seams [1]
Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Always, Episode 31: Sécurité, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Trans Daniel Jacobi, i wrote this in fifty four minutes and barely edited at all and it shows, idk the vibes in my head were off so I wrote this to fix it, it’s just 532 words of jacobi being soft for eiffel, obligatory “go to sleep” fic, takes place some time after, there’s gravity because it’s easier to write that way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:00:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24696421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forest_roses/pseuds/forest_roses
Summary: It works like this: you hold him while he sleeps, listen to his quiet breathing and kiss him awake gently when it starts to speed up. Sometimes, if you don’t catch it in time, his eyes pop open wide and scared, ready to see nothing but the void of space, but you’re there, whispering little phrases until he feels safe enough to sleep again.
Relationships: Doug Eiffel/Daniel Jacobi
Series: stars showing through the seams [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1785451
Comments: 8
Kudos: 56
Collections: 500 Words Week 2020





	Ice Blue

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from "Ice Blue" by The Mountain Goats.  
> I've been waiting for a new Jacoffel fic since February and I just gave up and wrote one instead. It's just them being soft and gay, but what else do you expect from me?

The blue glow of the star’s light spills through the window and fills the white darkness of the room. It hits the thin blanket a little too harsh, too bright, but it slows down and deepens its shadow before reaching the two of you, lying close together on the small bed. The color pools in the hollows of his eyes and cheeks and flows across his collarbones; still visible despite weeks of rest and healing. You don’t like the way the light makes him look; too faded, his dark skin stretched across bones and the sharp curve of his jaw where hair is only just now beginning to grow. It’s beautiful, in its own way, it shows the small miracle of his life despite everything, but it scares you to wonder just how much longer he would have had if you hadn’t found him.

He’s getting better now, slowly, and you know how much it’s helped for him to see his friends again. A tiny, hidden part of you still whispers jealous words when you see how much he laughs at the lieutenant’s continuous jabs or the AI’s teasing jokes. But you remember how cold and small he felt, shaking in your arms the first few nights, scared and too overwhelmed to even speak, and without anyone he knew to steady him. You held him then, as you hold him now: close to you, one hand against the back of his neck, fingers brushing the feather-light hair, and one across his back, which you used to use to steady him but now use to steady you. The differences are both good and bad, and you wish you could have one or the other but you know too well that that isn’t how this works.

It works like this: you hold him while he sleeps, listen to his quiet breathing and kiss him awake gently when it starts to speed up. Sometimes, if you don’t catch it in time, his eyes pop open wide and scared, ready to see nothing but the void of space, but you’re there, whispering little phrases until he feels safe enough to sleep again. On nights when he can’t close his eyes, the two of you stay up, and you tell him about some of the lesser atrocities you’ve done, and he talks about movies and tv shows until you can hardly understand him. It is confusing, and it is complicated, and it is love, and love is never simple, but it goes like this:

He wakes up, and his eyes open and he turns to see you watching him, and he smiles as he takes your hand and holds it to his chest. You can feel his heartbeat hit against your palm and you match your breathing with the slow rise and fall of his chest, let it lull your eyes closed as he lays his head across your shoulder and whispers “go to sleep” with his three am rasping voice, and you let yourself feel the scratch of the stubble on his chin and his hand holding yours.

You let yourself feel the miracle of this man, and you follow his dreams into growing sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed, please leave a comment and/or kudos! Thank you for reading this mess of a fic!


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